


Pillar of Salt

by TheHangedMan



Series: Burning Eden [2]
Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Blood, Emotional Sex, Gangbang, Jealousy, Multi, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Public Humiliation, Requited Love, Restraints, Tentacle Monsters, Unconditional Love, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24802807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHangedMan/pseuds/TheHangedMan
Summary: Belial knew the futility of his struggle. Lucilius could see it written in the creases on his face. Still he fought, with straining muscles, to cling to the single life line he had.“It’s pointless.” Lucilius attempted to say, but no sound left him.Still, Belial must have understood, for words formed on his lips and Lucilius read them like lines from a book. “I’ll find you, Cil. I won’t lose you again.”A promise that was no better than a fool's hope. Even a primal, whose domain was the dark, couldn’t hope to traverse something as unknown as the void. It was old, older than even Lucilius’ creator. Still, there was a moment that Lucilius believed him. Only a moment. He knew better.
Relationships: Beelzebub/Lucilius (Granblue Fantasy), Belial/Lucilius (Granblue Fantasy), Helel Ben Sahar/Lucilius (Granblue Fantasy), Mob/Lucilius (Granblue Fantasy)
Series: Burning Eden [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793947
Comments: 11
Kudos: 50





	1. Of sweat and toil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GStK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GStK/gifts).



> Note that this is part 2 of a series. You could read this as is for the porn, but you’ll get more context if you start with the Tower (more porn).

Lucilius was sinking.

In a place where blackness swallowed sound and sight, he could still feel the void rising up around him. Had the circumstances not been what they were, Lucilius might have been fascinated by the sensation. Unfortunately, the border between dimensions was devouring him. It wasn’t with the intent of digestion, but imprisonment. 

The void was unhurried in its consumption. Had Lucilius wanted to, he could have trudged through the thick, cold muck for a while before it rose above his eyes. But what was the point? The exit had vanished upon his arrival, drawn shut like the jaws of a beast. There was nowhere to go.

However, one anomaly remained; a single break in the all consuming black. Lucilius was not alone; he could still feel Belial’s warm grasp around his wrist— could still make out his face in the inky sea. But, the grip on Lucilius was slipping. The pair of them were being pulled in separate directions. Belial was sinking upwards— if up was down and down was up here. Any moment now.

Belial knew the futility of his struggle. Lucilius could see it written in the creases on his face. Still he fought, with straining muscles, to cling to the single life line he had. 

“It’s pointless.” Lucilius attempted to say, but no sound left him.

Still, Belial must have understood, for words formed on his lips and Lucilius read them like lines from a book. “I’ll find you, Cil. I won’t lose you again.”

A promise that was no better than a fool's hope. Even a primal, whose domain was the dark, couldn’t hope to traverse something as unknown as the void. It was old, older than even Lucilius’ creator. Still, there was a moment that Lucilius believed him. Only a moment. He knew better.

There was finality in the words, punctuated by closed eyes and a relinquished grip. As if to make up for lost time, blackness that reduced identity to ash swallowed Belial in an instant. 

Lucilius was truly alone.

Without the lifeline to support him, the thick black tar of the void filled Lucilius’ mouth and nose, suffocating him. He spat, expelling it, but more took its place. It rushed into his eyes, robbing the rest of his sight. Belial was gone. So how did his voice reach? 

“I love you.”

The night around Lucilius swirled.

—————————————————————

Lucilius was on his back now. A different, natural kind of darkness replaced the void. Above him, Belial crouched, blocking out the moonlight that illuminated the rest of the room. Belial cupped Lucilius’ cheek in his hand and gazed down at him softly. In the serpent’s eyes there was no lie. They were honest and loving, unsuitable for a beast of his nature. No one had ever looked at him that way. Not even Lucifer. 

The slow roll of hips rocked Lucilius back and forth, flooding heat into his veins. Belial sank into him, consummating the unholy union of man and artificial beast. 

“Love? Are you even capable of that?”

How could Belial, his own creation, feel something that Lucilius could not? No, that was a lie wasn’t it? He too had loved. Once.

“What does it matter?” Belial’s mouth quirked, betraying the lie— wait, was it a lie? It did matter to Belial, just not in the way Lucilius meant. “They’re pretty words, aren’t they?”

Words Lucilius had heard before. 

A different sort of memory swirled in the beams of moonlight that painted the sheets. It was so similar, it seemed to bleed into the current one, taking it over. Lucilius had been here before with his back pressed against a soft feather bed. There had been a man buried between his legs. 

Not Belial.

He looked up again and clear blue eyes stared back. Long silver hair spilled over his arms and legs. Strong but slender hands held him down. The man wore Lucifer’s face, but he was not Lucifer.

“I love you, Eve.” Words spoken tenderly.

This body wasn’t his. This name wasn’t his. This memory wasn’t his. If it was —and deep down, he felt that it must be— then even his spiteful act of submission was something orchestrated. Made from ribs. Lesser half. Man’s companion— man’s subservient half.

Once he had known love, not from this man, but from a creator. That love had rejected what he was. Like an orphan he had been abandoned, cold and starving; scorned by the one he’d called Father. Within him, the light had been uprooted and he had been forced to plant a seed to fill that vacancy. The twisted thing that had grown inside of Lucilius’ own heart wasn’t capable of producing viable fruit of its own. 

What Belial was, Lucilius no longer understood.

The moonlight was torn away in an instant and the deep dark replaced it.

—————————————————————

“I know who you are.” Lucilius called out bitterly. His voice was swallowed whole by the void and yet he knew he had been heard. 

“And do you remember who you are?” The reply pierced the darkness.

He was here— the man from his vision— The Speaker. Helel ben Sahar, Lucilius’ proclaimed superior half. How that could be, he couldn’t fathom. Lucilius had devoured him, bite by bite, in the echoing halls of Etemenanki. A pool of blood and viscera should have been all he was. Lucilius glared. There was no clear point of origin. “I know what I am not.”

“You remember, but you don’t understand,” Helel informed him clinically. “There’s too much in your head, interfering with the memories of time we spent together. I will help clear the fog away.”

“You—!” Lucilius shouted voicelessly, but the rest of his words were snatched away. The deep dark began to warp, and he was sinking again. A new scene took shape around him, much more tangibly this time. The blackness melted away to reveal familiar places and faces and, at once, he was submerged in the moment.

—————————————————————

“For what purpose was I created?” Clear blue eyes peered down at him.

“To oversee evolution.” Lucilius replied. All around him, the walls of his research lab pressed in. Dim lights flickered above Lucilius’ head while a brighter one held steady on his desk. His hands shook as they streaked bacteria into an agar plate. The dish was capped and set aside. Lucifer placed another before him.

“Then, my friend, why is it that we live underground? It’s difficult to fulfill my role here.”

“You two are still in the experimental stage. I don’t have enough data to prove the necessity of your implementation.” Lucilius could feel a second set of eyes upon him. He ignored them. 

“We’re unfinished?”

“No.”

Lucifer’s brows knit together and he frowned. He didn’t understand.

“The time is not yet right.” Lucilius sterilized the tip of his applicator over an open flame. The metal implement was rolled between his fingers smoothly, his tremor dissipating with concentration. 

“Will it ever be?” A voice from behind Lucilius asked impetuously. “You’d think field data would be the most useful. Does The Council amuse themselves by watching the ones beneath them dance?”

Lucilius turned, narrowing his eyes at his other creation. The dark haired beast lay reclining against a stone pillar, an open book draped across his bare chest. Various sensors were attached to his skin, gathering information regarding his resting vitals. “Belial, learn to hold your tongue. Intelligence is not measured by what you do say, but by what you do not.”

“As you wish, Cil.” That nickname again.

“The Council must first be convinced of your usefulness,” Lucilius turned back to Lucifer, seated at his side. “They do not have time to entertain every appeal for support.” 

“I understand. In that case, may I—” Lucifer inclined his head then stopped short. It was as if he had something more to say but thought better of it.

“Yes?” Lucilius prompted him, not taking his eyes off of the petri dish before him.

Lucifer’s great white wings flexed nervously, sending the smallest draft of air in Lucilius’ direction. It ruffled his hair and played at the hems of his robes. “May I make a request?”

Lucilius finished his next plate and stacked it atop the other before turning back to look at Lucifer. “You need not ask, just make it and I will decide if it’s worth my time.” Another dish was set on the desk before him.

“My friend, will you tell us of the stars?” A hand found Lucilius’ upper arm. Lucilius felt himself unconsciously lean into the touch.

“Do you not already have all the knowledge you require to fulfill your role?”

“I do, but…” Lucifer managed to look sheepish. “It’s not the same as experience.”

This creature he had fashioned from concept— no, from theory— how alive it sometimes felt. Lucilius found himself staring at Lucifer, trying to pick apart the reasoning behind his words. Likely, he did so for too long. Lucifer began to fidget, his expression shifting to discomfort. “Yes, that is correct, tell me what you’d like to know.”

Oh, how naive Lucilius had once been. It wasn’t until after The Council had begun to press him to create more weapons that he began to doubt their divine inspiration. Millenia they had reigned supreme, holy men and women in his eyes. Proximity revealed their corruption.

They had looked upon Lucifer with great desire— Lucifer was strong, but not strong in that manner of battle. Obedient to a fault, if he had stayed by Lucilius’ side it would have destroyed him. It was only away from the capital, with Beelzebub under his thumb, that he could allow Lucifer to truly shine. It was kindness, but maybe it had also been neglect? Whatever it was, that was the thorn that eventually shore their relationship in twain. 

—————————————————————

As he found himself, the memory began to fade out. Once again, he was left alone in the frigid void. The only company he kept was with the body that was his by right that he had no claim to. Frost had begun to form along his eyelashes. Belial, even if he was beside Lucilius now, it wouldn’t have been better than if he were leagues away. The darkness was all consuming. 

Again, his creation commanded Lucilus’ thoughts. Belial, who had every right to be bitter and resentful towards Lucilius. Belial, who had no reason to pledge his allegiance to a creator who would have abandoned him. Belial, who had waited two millennia for Lucilus to return.

Belial.

Lucilius blinked, taking in the absence of light that was the void. Slowly, he flexed his hand, raising it up in front of his face to observe. Nothing. Lucilius was completely blind. 

Something about his final thought had tore him from the reverie. What part could it have been? More importantly however, what had been the purpose of such a memory? It had felt real.

“Eve.” The voice called for Lucilius again. “You were reaching out for me even then; trying to make yourself whole again. There’s no need to struggle, we’re together again.”

Lucilius felt his heart grow cold. Nothing Lucilus had created had ever been his. From the moment of his birth his fate had been sealed. Tool of the creator; used and then forgotten. Lucifer, his life’s greatest work, was a lie. This man— this idealistic fool— was the truth. “I devoured your vessel. I have no need for your spirit.”

“I would prefer not to bind you. Let us make peace and walk hand in hand again as we once did.” 

As they once did? The false memories, they couldn’t be… “I have no intention of remaining here or of leaving with you. Lay down and die already.”

There was an extended silence that followed the end of which was punctuated by a noticeable drop in temperature. An involuntary shiver ran up Lucilius’ spine. Ice began to form on his rigid limbs. “Maybe time is what you need?”

The Speaker was trying to subdue him! Lucilius flexed his armored fingers, assessing the range of motion that remained. It was diminished. A frustrated growl left Lucilius' throat and he began to thrash about, attempting to keep the cold at bay. It did little to slow the process.

“Rest,” The Speaker pressed, doing nothing to stop what became a glorified tantrum. “Let the pretense behind these false memories fade away. Remember the truths within them.” Helel Ben Sahar’s influence was felt elsewhere. Lucilius’ consciousness began to ebb, receding until it drifted back out into the sea of recollection.

—————————————————————

The Council had turned Lucilius’ own research against him.

Or rather, he had been given a choice about it, one that there was only one answer to. They had outlined as much at the end of one of the regular demonstrations, after Lucilius had already been made to stand on his feet for long hours presenting his latest research. Theirs had been a twisted proposal.

Submit

“Very well.” Lucilius told them, eyes fixed upon the Head Councilman. He alone was not a vile enough man to have come up with something of the sort. The others had whispered in his ear. Still, there was no denying the amusement that sparked in the man’s expression. the Head Councilman gave a slight nod of his head in the direction of another, his right hand. The dark robed woman got to her feet wordlessly and exited the meeting chamber.

Lucilius could feel Belial fidget beside him. Unease could be deduced from his low whisper. “This isn’t a good idea. Let me take your place.” Straight to the point. None of his usual distasteful humor.

“They won't be satisfied using you as a stand-in any longer. I didn’t ask for your advice.” Lucilius snapped back under his breath. 

“Yet, I feel as if you’re following it.”

Lucilius didn’t have time to argue back, a large wooden crate was wheeled in before him and the side pried off with a crowbar. Waving Belial away defiantly, Lucilius approached his pyre. The wooden vessel was twice his height and double that in width. He could easily walk around inside of it if not for the creature that resided within.

A Councilman, lower ranked than his peers, approached Lucilius with a pair of iron wrist cuffs.

“That won’t be necessary.” Lucilius insisted. “I don’t intend to struggle.” The last word tasted like stomach bile. Belial shot him an unimpressed look. Lucilius turned his face away from the primal indignantly. So, necessary submissive behavior like this was permissible in Belial’s eyes so long as he was the only one doing it? Hypocrisy.

The Astral looked between Lucilius and the Head Councilman quickly, uncertain of the authority behind that statement. With a wave of his hand, the Head Councilman dismissed the cuffs, deeming his service to be unnecessary. Lucilius had half a mind to send a biting remark in the Head Councilman’s direction, but thought better of it when he caught sight of the creature.

Certainly, this had not been what Lucilius had been expecting. 

It was ugly; a mass of flesh given life. Mostly tendrils of ashy gray, the primal beast inched towards him slowly, half rolling, half sliding against the polished stone floor. It oozed a semi-opaque white fluid that gathered in puddles beneath it, reaching the toes of Lucilius’ boots as it approached him. 

Whether it knew he was before it or not, Lucilius didn’t know, for it had no eyes or apparent vision-sensory organs. Mindless creature. What purpose did a monstrosity such as this serve? Who among the Council’s numbers had abused his careful research in order to create this— this atrocity? 

Lucilius didn’t flinch away from it as it wrapped a tendril around his ankle. Distress would do him no good. So instead, he turned up a haughty face at the creature and held his tongue as more limbs followed.

In a staggeringly powerful jerk, the grip on his ankles intensified and Lucilius found the room turning upside down— or rather he was. Lucilius knew the Council’s immoral tastes well, and the creature made no secret of its intention. So, when the tendrils crawled up his waist and thighs, rubbing against his crotch expectantly, Lucilius was not surprised. Still, he felt himself grow red at the sensation and the audience. He wasn’t Belial. 

The Council hadn’t even bothered to strip him entirely of his clothes, knowing full-well what was in store for Lucilius. Instead, his robes were simply pushed aside by hungry tendrils and he was left to bare slim-fitted compression stockings for the room to see. Clumsily, and with great struggle, the beast removed a boot from one of his feet, shucking the leather shoe across the room as if an afterthought. A thick tentacle took its place, finding the access to naked flesh that it sought beneath the hem of his ankle. It slithered up his leg, sliding against his skin, ripping holes into the sheer nylon material as it went. When it reached his upper thigh, it tensed. In one powerful stroke, it tore open the fabric at his rear and crotch, exposing him fully to the Council. 

Uproarious laughter filled the room. What exceptional entertainment he must have been, Lucilius thought bitterly. 

More of the creature’s many arms wrapped around his limbs, spinning him about until he was halfway upright again. It seemed that certain variations of the tentacles were specialized in fine-motor skills, while others were made for brute strength. Its larger arms handled him awkwardly, akin to a rag doll, but the slender ones seemed to move with dexterity and purpose. They pulled away the layers of his robes again, replacing their girthier kin at his crotch. 

As a set twined around his cock and prodded at his entrance, Lucilius’ attention fell back to the crowd. 

“Not getting hard from having a beast take you? What’s different about this time; do you not like your audience?” The familiar voice of a Councilman called out to him. “Or maybe you only have an acquired taste for certain pets?”

With hollow eyes, Lucilius stared back at him, offering him neither the admission of guilt, nor the outright act of defiance that he must have hoped for. “Who can say?” It was not the answer he should have chosen to diffuse the situation. Belial’s eyes burned holes into the back of his head, pleading with him. In this situation, passivity was an aggression, but Lucilius couldn’t help himself.

“He must only have eyes for beasts that look like men.” Another council member offered with a sneer and they began to debate amongst each other. It couldn’t possibly be that anyone of conservative tastes would have difficulty finding arousal in front of a crowd. 

“Do you think that he beds the one he gave his own face too?” 

The creature slid its slimy tendrils against him, spreading him open. If Lucilius closed his eyes, maybe he could imagine that the tentacles felt like too-thin fingers that lacked bone structure. No, that thought only turned his stomach more. The first of its numbers penetrated him as the Council mocked the display. Unbothered by the noise, lazily, the monstrosity adjusted its angle, bending him in half in order to press another tendril inside. 

“He must. How wicked. Does his self idolatry know no bounds? I wonder what spoiled him so?”

“The little king used to be so devout, it’s a pity.”

As the audience conversed, they rose to their feet, drawing closer to Lucilius. Hungry eyes were upon him, savoring the sight of victory. Tangible evidence of Lucilius’ immorality had been discovered and presented before a court of his betters. With the number of secrets Lucilius kept, it had always been a matter of time before something was unearthed. Lucilius was just thankful that he had only lost his footing in such a dangerous dance for a moment. It wouldn’t happen again.

Bowing his head, Lucilius fixed his gaze on the floor, watching the slick fluids drip from his dangling feet. They pooled beneath him and the beast— nothing more than a mindless, wriggling mass of pliable flesh— paid the mess no mind. The creature was deeper inside him than anything had a right to be. He couldn’t feel it like he could against his flesh, but the pressure was growing and he saw it squirming beneath his skin. An involuntary groan passed through his tight lips as it pulsated, dumping its thick secretions into him. The fluid overflowed and dripped out, coating the sides of his trembling thighs.

It felt vile.

In response to the sound, Belial stepped back into Lucilius’ field of vision. Considering the circumstances and his adjutant, the stone-cold expression Belial wore raised alarm within Lucilius’ breast. Quietly brewing hatred, aimed in the direction of the High Councilman, all it would take was for one of their numbers to notice Belial and they too might see the oddity that it was. But they did not. Lucilius could see the gears in Belial’s mind turning, his gaze flicking back and forth between the creature and the High Councilman. Then, Belial changed his trajectory and took a half step towards Lucilius.

‘Stay,’ Lucilius mouthed sternly, catching Belial’s eye. A deep-set frown spread across Belial’s face, quietly voicing his disagreement. Then, in an instant, his expression grew controlled again. He must have been deciding how best to defy the order. Lucilius scowled. 

The pressure increased and decreased in a rhythmic fashion, working him open more efficiently than any toys or fingers could. Considering the passage of time, the amount of tendrils fit inside him now should have been painful, but the secretions seemed to have a numbing property that relaxed his muscles. Lucilius was even having difficulty moving his legs; his skin seemed to be absorbing some of the solution.

“I think this beast is coddling him a little too much,” A female voice called from the crowd. Her delicate hand brushed against the side of his cheek. They would dare draw near enough to touch him? That was amusing. Shouldn’t the Council be afraid of dirtying their hands? “Surely it can be roused further?”

Oh? So this punishment wasn’t satisfactory? It must have been Lucilius’ lack of arousal that dissatisfied them, but did they honestly believe that increasing the pace would help? Not his fault that their debauchery was rooted on stimulation of the mind rather than the body. 

“Unfortunately, it was not created with the intention of being rough,” the creature’s handler informed the woman. As if to punctuate this sentiment, a tendril from the beast clumsily found the side of his face and rubbed an affectionate circle of fluid onto his cheek. The side of Lucilius’ mouth went numb. 

“Still, look at him though. Taking that creature into himself, he must be a beast himself to submit in such a way!” 

He wanted to roll his eyes, but he refrained from doing so. Let them call Lucilius names and spit curses upon him and his life’s work. It was a little more premature than he had intended, but he could survive without their support moving forward. He’d amassed just enough resources to garrison himself away in Canaan without fear of their meddling. Once they tired of this pointless display, he would gather his things and never return.

“A beast… You’re right. He’s not a man any longer. In that case, there shouldn’t be a reason for us to hold back.”

As a congregation, they turned to look at the High Councilman, awaiting his judgment on the treacherous suggestion. 

“The law states that we should not lay with man or woman unless it is with the intent to produce fruit… but I see no man here. Do as you please.” 

Lucilius felt his blood run cold. At once, their lecherous eyes were upon him. How long had it been since last they had been given permission to partake in one of their own kind? Knowing their insatiable appetites, they would have to be voracious. And there were so many of them— What would it take to satisfy them? Lucilius couldn’t be enough on his own. They would break him searching for release from their oaths.

Then, like a knife, a smooth voice cut into the conversation. “You’re really going to waste your time playing with him? He’s hardly better than a virgin in bed. Cil just lays there like a ragdoll and takes it.”

A flash of angry color painted Lucilius’ face at the insinuation. He did not!

“If you want something fun to mess around with, give me a spin instead, I’ll make it worth your while. I’m much better with my mouth.”

For Belial, it was a pathetic attempt at distraction. Cease your meddling, you’ll only make more trouble.

“Oh dear beast, you’d think that Lucilius would have created something more capable of thought to use as his messenger boy.” 

Fools. Everyone of them.

“Mmm, but maybe the little king prefers a big dumb brute between his legs?” Another quipped back before turning to face Belial. “It’s not about pleasure, although it might look that way to a creature as single-minded as you; it’s about punishment.”

Belial didn’t look in Lucilius’ direction. He played the part of the dimwit well. “Then maybe you’ll let me do the honors instead? No need to sully your own hands when I’m here.”

“Ha! You’re only loyal to your own cock. This beast would sooner betray its master than miss out on another chance to bed him.” 

“Enough. Send him away, he’s already made enough of a fool of himself,” Lucilius growled. Belial’s eyes flashed wide and his brows scrunched together into an expression of genuine hurt. Lucilius almost had half a mind to feel guilty about it. But, he didn’t. In everything that Belial did, Lucilius knew that he could trust him with one hundred percent certainty, to do in his best interest whether Lucilius agreed with the method or not. Still, this was not Belial’s place. Lucilius had everything under control.

“Now, now. There’s no need to send your beast away when he’s been so well behaved.” The woman who had touched Lucilius’ cheek removed herself from his side and went to approach Belial. She smiled deviously in the primal’s direction, taking hold of his collar with a deceptively powerful grip. Belial bent over as she led him back towards her seat, away from Lucilius’ side.

A sigh left Lucilius’ lips. If Belial’s intention had been to stay, then somehow, he’d managed that much. Little good it would do either of them.

The Council’s attention turned back to Lucilius and, at once, greedy hands were upon him. He didn’t struggle as they pried him from the monster’s grasp or stripped him of the rest of his clothes. Without any coverings, the chamber hall was frigid. It didn’t help that the bindings that had once been Belial’s were adjusted to fit him. Cold metal and molded leather restraints were fitted around his wrists and throat, restricting his movement and signifying his purpose. The rings between the three were chained together behind his back. 

The treatment was humiliating, but he concealed it behind a mask of disinterest. Eventually, they would grow bored of him— eventually, this would end.

A ways off, he heard the whimpering of a woman. Lucilius’ attention darted up to the side and he caught sight of Belial. He knelt by the feet of a female councilwoman, preoccupied. Thousands of years ago, these very same councilmembers would have abhorred a display like this. Her fingers combed through Belial’s hair, scratching at his scalp as his own dove between her legs, servicing her languidly. She moaned and rolled her hips with his movements as a male Councilman openly watched the display beside her. 

Belial’s eyes were not on the woman he had been tasked to satisfy; they remained ever on Lucilius, watching him intently. Lucilius knew that look and understood the danger behind it. Belial’s presence here was not for his own pleasure, it was a threat. The Council had no idea what they had invited into their midst. Lucilius knew better. Lucilius’ command was the only thing holding him in check. One word and Belial would bash himself against the full power of the Council. Loyalty and defiance. Lucilius wondered how he would fare against their strength. Maybe they’d show pity to their favorite pet.

However, Lucilius couldn’t stare for long, as he was led to bend over the sturdy wooden meeting desk at the front stage. Once there, a Councilman approached him, undoing the front of his trousers without preamble. When he withdrew himself from his underclothes, Lucilius was met with a fully-hardened and throbbing cock.

“Open wide, no biting now.” It pressed against the side of his mouth and Lucilius had to resist the urge to gag. It smelled so strongly of the Astral. Although Belial had paid him service like this, never had Lucilius been made to return the favor. This was uncharted territory.

Still, obediently, Lucilius parted his lips. At once, the Astral pushed into him to fill his mouth with hot flesh and the bitter taste of precum. The haughty look that twisted the corners of Lucilius’ eyes was unavoidable. The Councilman noticed it. 

“Do kings not suck cock? Is it beneath you? Humble yourself and learn your rightful place.”

Lucilius choked around the thick intrusion, unable to stomach the vile sensation. Sputtering and gasping for breath, he tried to pull back, but the Councilman took hold of a fistful of his hair and anchored him in place. 

“What’s that, having trouble breathing? Consider this a lesson in not straying outside your domain, researcher. If you can’t keep your mouth open then we’ll find a gag that will make you.” At that, Lucilius stiffened and struggled to force his throat to relax before they took away his speech entirely.

The Councilman before him was ruthless in spite of Lucilus’ inexperience. There was little art to the thrusting, just a hard, steady pace that gave him little room to catch his breath. More than once, Lucilius found black spotting at the edges of his vision. His lungs screamed for oxygen.

“Does the little king need to breathe?” He could hear the mob jeering as their hands found his skin. 

“Little king!”

Madness had overtaken their numbers. They chanted the nickname over and over gleefully like a mass drunk on the wine of communion. How far their corruption had progressed that they could feel righteous throwing stones. Logs and dust in their eyes— it was hypocrisy.

“How did you plan to sit atop heaven’s throne like that?” Fingers dragged against his spine, tracing the bony prominences.

“He’s beautiful for a beast, isn’t he?” A woman’s voice cooed. More fingers admired his ribs. 

“Delicate as a doll and soft as a kitten.” Another voice confirmed, a touch kneaded against his ass. “Won’t you mewl for me?”

“That’s a bit difficult to do when his mouth’s occupied. Besides, that tongue is rotten. Wear him out first and then he’ll make the sounds you want to hear.”

A hand slid against his bare lower back, and then a voice that he recognized rang out by his ear. “Getting fucked like a dog suits you.” It was the Councilman that had once questioned a Primal’s need for oxygen. “I think I’ll enjoy making you squirm like a bitch.”

Lucilius had to fight against the impulse to bite down. 

As the Councilman said this, he reached a hand around Lucilius’ hips and took up the Astral’s flaccid cock in his hand. Something cold and metallic was fitted over him and then clamped shut around his length. A cock cage. He’d seen such a contraption used on Belial under other circumstances. The Council did enjoy flaunting their power. Once, Lucilius had been made to watch them pass his creation around. Now, the position was reversed.

From behind, the head of the Councilman’s cock pushed into him smoothly, lubricated by the beast’s excessive secretions. Lucilius groaned around the length in his mouth, flexing his bound hands against their restraints. The struggling and discomfort was met with laughter. The subtle flush of Lucilius’ skin brought on more mockery. How the hell did Belial manage this? Dysrhythmic pounding, from ahead and behind, jostled him back and forth like a sailboat, leashed to a dock.

All the while, hungry hands and gluttonous eyes were upon him, plucking him apart. Their fingers tore into him, pinching at his nipples and bruising his delicate skin. He felt like a lab specimen under his own microscope, being stimulated to move in order to capture a better picture. They sneered and admired in the same breath. 

After what felt like a lifetime, the man in front of him tensed and jerked himself from Lucilius’ mouth. Eye to eye with the head, seed spilled onto Lucilius’ face, striping across his nose. It marked his cheeks in a disgusting display of ownership. Lucilius coughed and sputtered for air; cursing the spasm of his own throat around the nothingness that replaced the obstruction. The Councilman behind him slowed his vicious pace for a moment as he regarded the sight ahead of him. Lucilius felt raw and used.

“Say thank you.” The man who had spilt himself demanded, pulling up his chin so that Lucilius was forced to look at him.

“T-Thank you—” Lucilius choked out in a hoarse voice. It hurt to speak. It seemed that the Councilman had something else to say, for he opened his mouth, a self-righteous remark on the tip of his tongue. But, he was cut short by another familiar voice from the crowd. 

“This is pathetic,” Beelzebub announced from where he was sitting with legs crossed in his usual chamber chair. 

More murmurs, unintelligible this time, echoed around the room. Lucilius looked to Belial and saw the way he grinned. They were displeased by the remark. The one who had finished on Lucilius’ face cleaned his hand with a handkerchief and tucked himself back into his clothes. With a defiant look, he turned towards Beelzebub and spat. “Are you defending this beast?”

“Beast?” Beelzebub smiled. If only the Council knew what sort of actual monster Lucilius had modeled their Vice Councilman into. They already despised him for the way he stood out. Oh, they would turn against him in a heartbeat. It was a temptation, but one that Lucilius needed to deny himself. That research was forbidden. Instead, the pair of them locked eyes, attempting to deduce the other’s next move through gaze alone. The tension was palpable.

“Are you denying that he’s a beast?”

“Not at all. I’ve seen first hand his ruthlessness, and that is no man you’re sheathed inside.” Beelzebub mused in a high-and-mighty tone, and inclined his head to the man behind Lucilius, who had stilled entirely. Always so self-important! No wonder the others despised him.

“Then what issue do you take with this display?”

“The issue taken is with your bare cock on display for the lot of us. Forgive me if I’m not enjoying myself. I’ll take my leave here.” With that, Beelzebub rose to his feet and, in a dramatic swish of capes and robes, exited the Council chambers.

Whatever air Beelzebub was trying to accomplish was lost on Lucilius. This was not the first time Lucilius had had an Astral between his legs— or beast, whatever Beelzebub could be considered now. Beelzebub had no grounds to act pious. 

Lucilius could hear the murmurs of dissent, but behind him, the Astral had resumed his pace. The table rocked with each thrust of his hips, driving Lucilius’ knees into the wooden sideboard and his hips into the edge. For once, he was thankful for the contraption around his cock, it was saving him an additional discomfort. 

“Make some noise, whore.” The Councilman behind him demanded, taking up a fistful of his hair and yanking it back. A cry of pain left Lucilius and the man’s pace became more erratic. The Councilman was close, Lucilius knew— he was no stranger to the feeling of a man preparing to climax inside of him— and so, he braced himself. 

When the Councilman finished, he did so by slamming the side of Lucilius’ face back down against the desktop, leveraging his own weight to bear down on top of his submissive partner. A gurgling groan left Lucilius’ lips as his feet lifted off the ground and dangled, held aloft by the angled hips. Heat rushed into Lucilius. He tensed himself, shutting his eyes tight in an attempt to remove himself from the sensation. 

He couldn’t.

Finally, after a long moment where panting filled Lucilius’ ear, the man pulled out, leaving a feeling of emptiness where he had once been. Lucilius breathed a sigh of relief— too soon. The instant he was released, more hands were upon him, presumably having already forgotten Beelzebub’s words. They turned him over and held his legs apart in a humiliating display. A small crowd of seven council members gathered around to get a better look. They blocked out both Belial and the High Councilman from view. Seed dripped out of Lucilius, pooling on the table beneath him. Their eyes raked over him. 

“He’s not hard at all,” complained a man among their numbers.

“I can change that,” a woman informed him with confidence. A handkerchief was taken from the sleeve of her robes and used to dab away some of the Councilman’s essence from between her legs. She called for a disposable glove and one was produced from the crowd. The glove was donned clumsily. Had she been one of his researchers, he would have chastised her for the poor technique. Lucilius held his tongue and let a flat look conceal his disapproval.

Slender fingers pressed against his skin before slipping into his already-gaping hole. For a moment, she searched around inside him, prodding with the blunt tips of her long nails. It was uncomfortable and Lucilius flinched against the contact. But then, she located what she was searching for, changing the angle of her approach so that the pads of her fingers pressed firmly against him instead. Lucilius’ eyes widened as electricity sparked through him, and he grit his teeth.

A few of their numbers noticed the change in Lucilius’ expression, voicing their glee with more casual insults. “You see, beasts can be tamed in such a manner,” She explained smugly. “Further proof that he’s no Astral.” Her fingers tapped at him rhythmically. Blood pooled in the pit of Lucilius’ abdomen in response to the pointed precision. He could feel his cock strain within its confines.

This treatment continued relentlessly, beyond where Lucilius could hold composure. The pressure was too much. He threw his head back and gasped for air. A throaty moan leaked out of his straining lungs, his muscles tight. This is what they wanted, Lucilius reminded himself bitterly; the Council wanted to break him. It was in his best interests to toss away his pride and let them do so. The situation would only escalate, otherwise.

“I do pity you, Eve. Your path has not been an easy one.” A familiar voice breathed against his ear. Long silver hair spilled over his shoulder and there was a light touch to his upper arm.

“Speaker!” Lucilius hissed, remembering himself. This was a memory. He jerked his head aside to regard his adversary. 

Helel ben Sahar’s touch skimmed down his bound arms, fingering the lock of his restraints. “Repent, and I will rescue you.” The Council must not have been able to perceive him for they did not react to the words. 

“You’re more of a snake than Belial,” Lucilius sneered.

Helel pulled away with a disappointed look. “Seeing you suffer like this brings me no joy, but it is your decision. Eventually, you’ll come around.”

“So you’re punishing me like they punished me?” A deranged laugh broke free and Lucilius felt the fingers between his legs pause at the sound. He paid them no mind.

“I’m not punishing you, I’m giving you a choice to be free from suffering.”

“What do you know of choice?” Venom backed the words.

“Are you talking to yourself, mad man?” The question came and, before Lucilius could react, the fingers withdrew from him. He squeezed his legs together at the loss. Heat had built up within him and it had nowhere to escape. 

“We finally cracked him? Let’s see if he screams.” Another pushed their way over to Lucilius, prying his legs back apart. A cock pressed to his loose hole. Lucilius sucked in a breath, waiting for the inevitable. The length slammed into him, bottoming out in one thrust. Immediately, he was full again, a pathetic whimper punched from his lungs. “There we go.”

Lucilius hit the table on his back, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Unlike before, each thrust brought electricity. His cock throbbed within the metal cage, unable to reach its full size. It was starting to hurt. Lucilius couldn’t help the groans that began to fall freely from his lips. His head lolled to the side, and a trail of spit dribbled from his gasping mouth. 

Helel’s eyes met his. The Speaker had moved to recline against the desk chair, pushed aside in the commotion. He crossed his legs and sat back, waiting for the moment that Lucilius broke. Lucilius sneered, for he would not. He’d already made it through this once before. He would do it again.

—————————————————————

In the wake of the vile display, Lucilius was left, naked and heaving, atop the old wooden desk. He lay in a pool of various body fluids. He felt cold, sore, and disgusting. 

“Belial...” He croaked out with a broken voice, and immediately an equally disheveled shadow was cast over him. Wordlessly, Belial took up that red sash that decorated his uniform and used it to mop up the grime from Lucilius’ form. He was tender, careful to avoid the welts and bruises scattered on his creator’s skin. Then, when he had finished, he sat Lucilus up, practicing caution as Lucilius acclimated to the new position. 

Aside from a slight tremor in Belial’s hands, he maintained a facade of calm. It made Lucilius feel guilty. “Don’t waste your time with pointless emotions like that. Sentimentality only breeds suffering.”

“And callousness breeds disillusion,” Belial responded, his voice just above a whisper. So rare was it for Belial to talk back to him directly. Lucilius found himself lost for a reply.

Lucilius’ robes were soiled, soaked through with secretions, thanks to the writhing beast that had violated him. On stead, Belial used his uniform jacket to wrap Lucilius, covering his nakedness and offering him an empty sense of modesty. Belial gathered him up in his arms softly. After assuring himself that they were alone, he pressed a kiss to Lucilius’ forehead. 

“I love you, Lucilius.”

So unused to hearing his full name in the other’s voice, Lucilius parted his lips in disbelief when confronted with the sound. He had allowed that emotion to fester in Belial like a disease; a disease that had been passed along to him. “Devotion is only meant for gods and devils, Belial...”

“There’s nothing in these skies more worthy of my passion and worship. Your enemies are my enemies, your love is my love. There will be blood.” Belial’s voice was controlled, but Lucilius could feel the depth of the uttered threat in his words. There was no stopping Belial from exacting revenge against this slight.

“You waste your anger on them. Good or evil, it will all be ash.”

Wings unfurled from the Primal’s back, stretching out across the empty chamber. Dark, black, twisted things they were. A physical manifestation of the soul and, as such, Belial concealed them in order to maintain his deception. In all his years, Lucilius had only known one other creature who had forgone feathers entirely.


	2. Upon the Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If the place that Lucilius had entered from had been the mouth, then where he was now was the stomach. Only, he had been mistaken as to what manner of creature meant to digest him. The void was no beast. It just was. The Speaker on the other hand—
> 
> “Speaker, you will never be finished with me. You will spend an eternity locked in a battle of wills until yours gives out.”
> 
> “My will is that of my creator’s and, therefore, unbending. If you think that I will yield to a younger fraction of myself then you are mistaken. Repent and return to my side. You will find greater worth in your true purpose.”
> 
> —was ravenous.

“Eve.” The Speaker’s voice woke him.

Back in the void. Lucilius could barely move his jaw. Ice trapped every other aspect of him, but it seemed that some sort of cruel mercy had been exercised to allow him to still speak. “Why are you showing me these things?”

“Your proper memories are buried. I’m unearthing them.”

A lie— or at least half of one. These memories were too pointed to be accidents. The Speaker sifted through them, pausing in the ones that he saw fit, prolonging the agony. 

“Yes,” Sarcasm dripped from Lucilius’ words, “I’m certain that demonstration of humiliation was what was concealing whatever you’re looking for. Is it so hard to acknowledge that you’re reveling in your victory?”

“I am not.”

“You’re enjoying this.”

The Speaker was slow to answer Lucilius, and, when he did, there was a noticeable hint of displeasure edging the words. “How could I enjoy watching others do as they please with you?”

If Lucilius could, he would have spit at the other’s feet, but in this case, he found silence to be the most defiant act he could manage.

“Why do you fight me, Eve?”

“That is not my name. You are not my keeper.”

“I have been good to you. You do not remember, I admit, but I can make it so you want for nothing— I can make you happy again.”

Shards of ice, crystallized moisture, dug into his lungs, piercing them from the inside. It hurt to laugh, but Lucilius forced it. “Happy?”

“I can rid you of these terrible memories and return to you who you once were.”

A time before knowledge— before hatred? “Ignorance will not make me happy.”

Helel ben Sahar let out a mournful breath of air. It washed over Lucilius’ face, betraying the Speaker’s proximity. If only Lucilius could stretch out an arm and find out for himself, then maybe he could manage to get his fingers around Helel’s slender throat. Better to be alone than suffer his company.

“Perhaps... another reminder of what you have suffered.” 

“I have already lived these things, showing them to me again will not change my mind.” 

“Say the word and I will free you from reliving your suffering. I will excise these memories from your mind.”

—————————————————————

“Send the beast away.”

“Does his presence unnerve you? It’s not as if he hasn’t seen you disrobed before.” Lucilius chided with a half smile, making no secret of Beelzebub’s request. This arrangement had been made long ago, and Lucilius knew what was coming.

A stack of letters was set aside. Orders from the Council. They didn’t seem to understand the parameters of excommunication. Demands kept pouring in and their ‘loyal’ watchdog was ever on Lucilius’ doorstep. That was fine, he preferred this distant arrangement along with its continued financial benefit.

“Mmm, and I was so looking forward to experiencing that again. Three’s a party.”

“Away.” Beelzebub warned, shooting a dangerous look in Belial’s direction.

Belial raised his hands up defensively. A guilty smile here, a flicking tongue there. “Come on, don’t you prefer a partner who actually gets off to getting it from behind?” Lucilius already knew the unsavory answer to that question; that Beelzebub didn’t care. Still, Beelzebub had the decency to look scandalized. This inadvertently encouraged Belial to continue. “You’re half as much a beast as I am now. I bet I’m the only one who’s got the stamina to keep up with you— well, aside from Luci that is.”

The color drained from Beelzebub’s face and Lucilius stood abruptly. “Enough, busy yourself elsewhere. You’re excused for the night.”

The grin turned wiry, defiant even. “Of course. Enjoy the stand-in, Bubs.” Belial gathered up the letters and exited, leaving Lucilius seething in his wake.

The time it took for Lucilius to compose himself was spent in silence, Belial’s words left unaddressed. Lucilius cleaned off the rest of his desk, ordering the papers so that he could pick up where he left off when Beelzebub was finished with him. When he had completed the task, he began the tedious ritual of removing his armor. Eyes were upon Lucilius’ back, observing his movements with keen attention. Beelzebub, as much as he attempted to feign otherwise, was not above the desires of the flesh, so Lucilius was methodical in his approach. He stepped out of his shoes and then undid the shoulder closure of his inner robes, letting the fabric pool at his feet.

Turning only his head back to regard Beelzebub over his shoulder, Lucilius analyzed his expression. Sharp eyes were upon Lucilius, drinking in the silhouette of his body beneath the thin fabric. Beelzebub was aroused, Lucilius could tell even without seeing physical proof of it between his legs. The way Beelzebub’s breathing quickened and his pupils dilated like a starving animal catching sight of an easy morsel. Because that’s what Lucilius was, wasn’t he? Something to tide Beelzebub over until he could get to the main course.

Hopefully, Beelzebub never would.

Lucilius beckoned him over, keeping his emotions off of his face. “Come, undress me.”

In the dim flickering light of the oil lamps, Beelzebub rose, stepping up behind Lucilius. His broad hands tugged loose the rest of the ornaments of Lucilius’ outer robes and slid the white fabric off his shoulders. It joined the rest on the floor.

Beelzebub’s mouth was on Lucilius’ neck, planting kisses to the throbbing pulse point just beneath his flesh. For all his harsh words, Beelzebub took pleasure in Lucilius' body, preferring to waste time familiarizing himself with the curves and edges if left to his own devices. It was a double edged sword. While frustrating, Lucilius played into the whims per Belial’s advice. More time spent out of bed translated to less time spent with Beelzebub’s weight atop him, saving Lucilius’ limbs some of the terrible ache.

How much easier it must have been to walk straight the next day after giving than it was after receiving. Lucilius didn’t voice the bitter thought.

Turning his head aside, Lucilius met Beelzebub’s mouth with his own. The hand on his shoulder began to drift down and Lucilus took up the wrist in his grip, lightly guiding it to smooth over the thin black under layer that clothed him. Beelzebub accepted the invitation, palming at Lucilius’ chest gently before smoothing down to his abdomen. 

Belial hadn’t been wrong in his crude accusation. Even as Lucilius led Beelzebub towards the bed, the thought was always in the back of his mind, that this arrangement existed for a purpose. Beelzebub, the only eyes Lucilius had in the Council, whose gaze too often drifted in Lucifer’s direction, had to be appeased in some way. Belial couldn’t hold his attention, only Lucilius, whose face was nearly identical to the Supreme Primarch’s. Had it been up to Belial— and it certainly was not— Lucifer would have been given up to the Astral’s lust long ago. 

The under layers were removed by Beelzebub and the cold night air hit his skin. He shivered, feeling exposed without his coverings. Some men, like Belial, felt confident and powerful in their nakedness. Lucilius just felt weak.

“Let me.” Lucilius reached a hand out for the closure of Beelzebub’s pants expectantly. A hand caught his wrist to stop him. Right, there was no give and take, just take. If Beelzebub wanted to remove any of his own clothing, Lucilius would have to wait for him to do it himself. This was not like sleeping with Belial. Lucilius let his arm fall slack. 

Seeing his obedience, Beelzebub let go. “On the bed, hands and knees.”

Feeling like a fool, Lucilus complied. He climbed onto the mattress, positioning himself as Beelzebub desired him to. Behind him, the mattress strained with additional weight. Lucilius balled his fists up into the sheets and remained silent.

“Did you prepare yourself?” Beelzebub questioned him, pressing oiled fingers against him.

“Belial did.”

There was a pause and the fingers withdrew. For the best, Lucilius let out a breath he hadn’t realized that he’d been holding. Beelzebub’s nails were far too long, any fingering he did would not be pleasant. The blunt head of Beelzebub’s cock replaced the sensation. There was no build up to it, as there never was. The less time Beelzebub gave Lucilius to talk the easier it was for Beelzebub to imagine that it was another beneath him.

Lucilius inhaled sharply as the massive thing slid into him. Legs and arms shook beneath him, threatening to give out. Beezelbub’s thick forearm wrapped around his waist, holding Lucilius up as he split him open. How thoughtful.

“You have the power to end this.”

Jerking his head to the side, Lucilius caught sight of Helel, seated comfortably at his desk. His ankles were crossed and his hands folded neatly in his lap. The sheer white robes that decorated his perfect form spilled out over the edge of the worn out seat like heavenly waterfalls. Had Lucilius not known the Speaker to be a snake, he might have been fooled.

“As do you,” Lucilius replied under his breath. He turned his face back to focus on the sheets beneath him. “I think I prefer it over your ceaseless prattle.”

Helel’s disappointment was palpable. Lucilius didn’t hear him get up. He only felt the warm touch of skin against his cheek as the Speaker turned Lucilius’ face back towards him. “What’s turned you so bitter?”

“You.”

“Who are you talking to?” Beelzebub demanded as his hips pressed harder into Lucilius. Suddenly, it was impossible for him to focus on his conversation with Helel. Lucilius groaned aloud as the large cock thrusted deeper into him.

Lucilius shook his head, jerking it out of Helel’s grip. Perspiration had gathered on his skin. “Myself. Get on with it.”

Beelzebub seemed unsatisfied with that answer, but didn’t ask again. Instead he withdrew himself almost completely and pushed back in. Lucilius felt the cock twitch inside him as he clenched down, unable to relax with such a large intrusion. A moan, echoing Lucilius’ distress, struggled out of his throat; dying as it leaked from his lips. His face hit the pillow as his arms gave out.

The advances didn’t stop. Beelzebub began to rock in and out of him, setting a raw and steady pace. The weight behind Beelzebub’s hips pushed Lucilius’ legs down, pressing his body flat against the mattress. Lucilius clutched the pillow, bracing himself against Beelzebub’s powerful thrusts. He gritted his teeth. 

Someday, things would be different.

Blearily, Lucilius turned his head to the side, perceiving the Speaker who sat on the mattress beside him. Helel’s nails dug into his palm, drawing small beads of ruby red blood from his flawless skin. Between his legs, beneath layers of delicate robes, his arousal was visible.

“You’re vile.” Lucilius smirked, voicing the words quiet enough that Beelzebub’s panting would conceal them.

Helel Ben Sahar shifted his legs concealing the obvious tenting in his skirts. “It should be us together.”

“You prefer imagining yourself in Beelzebub’s position? Is that what I am to you; just a warm body?”

“He thinks of you as more than that.” Helel’s attention floated up like a cloud. His eyes fixed on the large Astral thrusting into Lucilius. “But it doesn’t matter, you aren’t the right one to fill the emptiness within him. Nor will he fill the one within you.”

And you will? Lucilius could almost imagine the sort of retort Belial would have for that sort of remark. 

“Funny you should say that, Cil’s looking pretty filled out right now.”

No. That was far too tangible. Helel noticed it too. His whole body jerked at the sound; gaze darting to and fro trying to locate the source of the voice. There was none. Lucilius confirmed it himself. Beelzebub seemed not to take notice.

Rising to his feet, Helel began to pace the confines of Lucilius’ chambers. His skirts swirled about his ankles as he searched for Belial. He looked like a mad man searching for an illusory pest.

“Belial.” Lucilius croaked. The voice didn’t belong to the Belial that had just left the room. That one would not have been able to see Helel as the one from the council chambers had not been able to. This was the true Belial, not one fabricated from Lucilius’ memory. Still, wherever he was, he was formless, maybe nothing more than a dark shadow.

“You call your beast's name now? Are you some sort of common animal?” There was irritation in Beelzebub’s tone.

“Aww Bubs, jealous that I give better than you? You should try spreading your legs a few times if you want to learn how to satisfy a partner.” Again Belial answered, but the source of his words remained unknown.

“It should not be possible.” Helel grazed his fingertips against the far wall of the room. “This realm is mine, how did you penetrate my barrier?”

“Nice and easy with plenty of lubrication. The secret is not to get too excited with your fingers. Ease into it with the foreplay; give your partner plenty of time to adjust.”

A deep frown carved its way into Helel’s features. “What business do you have being here?”

“I was hoping to join in on the fun; to go a few rounds with you, Speaker.” Belial’s laugh reverberated throughout the room.

Helel’s attention darted back to Lucilius and then, without another word, the scene faded out.

—————————————————————

A snarl left Lucilius’ lips as he came to. “Why do you concern yourself with an imitation speaker?” Silence answered him, but there was a light touch against his arm, reminding Lucilius that he was not alone. Unable to move and swat the Speaker away, Lucilius stiffened at the contact.

“You’re more than an imitation, you’re a fragment.”

Lucilius narrowed his sightless eyes.

“You were made from me. Although I am a greater fraction, without you, I am also incomplete.”

There it was. The truth behind the ceaseless prattling. “These memories are for you, not for me.” Helel flinched against his skin. “All they have done is demonstrate the lengths of your infatuation. You wish to break me— or possess me. Which, doesn’t matter. I will not submit.”

“Many have tried to possess you. I can empathize with that but—”

“Why did you expel Belial from this place? He is equally as guilty of my crimes, yet you turned him loose to the skies again.”

There was no answer.

“There is no morality in your punishments. You separate him from me because he is an obstacle that stands in the way of your selfish aim.”

“He will be dealt with once I am finished with you.”

If the place that Lucilius had entered from had been the mouth, then where he was now was the stomach. Only, he had been mistaken as to what manner of creature meant to digest him. The void was no beast. It just was. The Speaker on the other hand—

“Speaker, you will never be finished with me. You will spend an eternity locked in a battle of wills until yours gives out.”

“My will is that of my creator’s and, therefore, unbending. If you think that I will yield to a younger fraction of myself then you are mistaken. Repent and return to my side. You will find greater worth in your true purpose.”

—was ravenous.

In the same way that Lucilius had known the Speaker’s words in Etemenanki to be the truth, he knew that Helel spoke of the way that things would be. Lucilius would not outlast him. In all likelihood they would hold each other in check until the creator gods robbed Lucilius of the chance for a grand finale. It was in his best interest to outplay Helel in another manner.

“What buried memories do you speak of? Your argument hinges on the assumption that recollection will change my heart. Show them to me like you showed me the others. I know it is within your power.”

The hand against Lucilius’ upper arm pulled away and a note of delight penetrated the void. “Yes, let me show you how things were and how they can be still. We were happy.”

Immediately, Lucilius forgot himself.

—————————————————————

Eve remembered vividly the moment that doubt entered his mind. 

He had been by the river bank, watching clear cool water swirl around his ankles. On his shoulder, the serpent had been perched as it often was when Adam was not present. The creature curled around him, flicking its tongue against Eve’s ear. “This place feels wrong, doesn’t it?”

Regarding first his reflection on the smooth surface, Eve’s eyes moved to rest on the white beast roosting upon him. Never before had the question been posed to him nor had he stumbled upon the thought himself. “What’s wrong with it?” 

“Mmm... it’s difficult to put into words. Just think about it for a bit.” 

Smooth scales slid against the back of Eve’s neck as the serpent wound its way under his arm and across his chest. The snake’s tiny hands found purchase on his skin. The touch was light and it ticked Eve, but he kept that to himself. The question that had been poised to him felt much the same. It was a gentle flick of a forked tongue or the ghostly crawl against his spine. Nothing more—but also nothing less. It bothered Eve.

Something in the water caught his eye. It couldn’t have been more than a ripple in an already imperfect mirror, but still it held his attention. Eve crouched down to get a closer look. Silver hair spilled out around his feet obscuring the sight. He gathered it up and tossed it over his shoulder.

“What do you see?” 

“Something that is me, but isn’t me.” Eve continued to peer at the man reflected back at himself. In every physical way he was identical to Eve, but he was not him.

“Who is it?” The serpent prodded.

“I don’t know.”

“This body isn’t yours.”

“It’s not?” Cool water filled the palms of Eve’s hands as he tried to capture the reflection between his fingers. The water spilled out and he was left with wet palms.

A clawed hand played with a long lock of his silver hair, “You’re almost there, I can see it in your eyes. But maybe, that is enough for one day.” 

“Eve.” A voice called out for him.

“And that is my cue.” At once the serpent’s wings opened and it took off from his shoulder, leaving Eve to his fate. Eve thought to call back for the winged reptile, but he decided against it. When it wanted to, it would find him again.

“What are you doing here? You stray too close to the center again. That part of the garden is forbidden to us.” Adam was by his side, peering at Eve’s wet hair with an expression of worry.

“By who’s will?” Eve asked. The tickling had not left the back of his mind.

Adam frowned, taking a moment to formulate his response. “By the creator’s… of course. Come away, you’ll catch a cold like this.” Something about his hesitation unsettled Eve, but he didn’t push. Helel’s hand was at Eve’s back, guiding him bodily away from the hill. Silently, Eve followed.

—————————————————————

“What am I?” Eve asked Adam, staring up at the birds perched in the branches.

“My lesser half.” Adam replied.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you were created to be by my side.” 

“What is my name?”

“Eve.”

“No.” He shook his head. Adam stiffened.

“What else could it be?”

“You have many names, why shouldn’t I?”

“Why do you ask so many questions?” An uneasy laugh tumbled from Adam’s chest. He took Eve up into his arms and kissed the crown of his head. “You are just Eve because you need no other name. My Eve. Things are simpler that way. All you do is give yourself headaches from questioning the nature of these things. Do not think upon the topic any longer.”

Eve didn’t answer, but he came to his own conclusion. Adam was selfish.

—————————————————————

“Adam is keeping the truth from you.”

Eve regarded the sky and then the trees. “What is this place? Why do I have no recollection of arriving here?”

“Because you’re not here.” The serpent replied, slithering against his flesh in winding circles. “Well, not really?”

“Am I a prisoner?”

Crimson eyes blinked back at him ambiguously. “Have you tried leaving?”

Something about the snake’s stare felt penetrating. Eve returned the serpent’s gaze with ice. “There are no exits.”

“There is always an exit.”

Eve’s eyes focused on the twin trees at the center of the garden. The tree of knowledge and the tree of life; their branches and roots intertwined where they touched, weaving into a web of intricate patterns. A sense of unease assailed him. 

The pair of them walked, retracing their steps through the trees until they reached the center of the garden. Here the river flowed from a spring, feeding all that resided within the bounds of the gates. Stepping into the pleasantly cold stream, Eve waded through, crossing to the other side.

“Serpent.” Eve addressed the snake. “Who am I?”

The trees were before them now and, with a flutter of it’s leathery wings, the serpent took off from his shoulder and alighted in the branches. It plucked a fruit from the tree of knowledge and then tossed it to Eve before slithering to settle in the arms of the tree of life. “Find out for yourself.” 

Silently, he regarded the dark red fruit, admiring how it looked in his hand. “This is the exit?”

“You know it to be the truth, but all doors lead somewhere. Out of one room, and into another.”

“It will tell me what I wish to know.”

“Yes, but are you really alright with leaving this place behind? It’s peaceful here. You could be happy.”

“Adam is happy, I am not.” A thought occurred to Eve. “The other one,” He pointed to the fruit of the tree of life. “Give me that one.”

An amused hiss tumbled from the beast and it flashed its fangs. “This is why I love you, Cil.” Another round red fruit was passed over to him from the high branches. “Always going against the grain and thinking outside the box.”

The serpent’s muttering was disregarded in favor of the two fruit Eve held in his hands. With his nails he carved out a bite sized piece of each. “Will you also eat, serpent?”

“There’s no need, I was born from this tree.”

He did not ask what that meant. Eve raised the two pieces of fruit to his lips and ate.

—————————————————————

The memories returned to Lucilius as he lay with Helel beneath an olive tree. The sunlight scattered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns into Helel’s skin. They were not naked as they should have been; white robes adorned their figures and bangles their bare arms and ankles. A circlet of gold was clasped at Lucilius’ neck, holding sheer gossamer fabric up over his chest. His back and shoulders were naked, but it was still more covering than they once had donned— they. A plural had been a singular.

“This isn’t a memory,” Lucilius observed, “this place is imperfect.”

“You ate the fruit.” Helel’s response was disappointingly lackluster. It reeked of inevitability. “It was only a matter of time.”

“Where is the creator?” Lucilius’ brain still felt foggy. “Why didn’t you recreate him as well?” 

Helel shook his head. “I cannot make something greater than myself. You would have known immediately.”

“So even your truth was a farce. You are a lie.” Helel rose to his knees as Lucilius spoke. He withdrew his arm from around Lucilius’ shoulders. Quietly, Helel arranged Lucilius beneath himself, having the smaller of the two lay with his back flat to the earth. Like this, he framed Lucilius with his hands and knees. “You show me the world as you wish it to be, not as it is.”

“It is my truth.” The Speaker sidestepped as he placed a tender kiss to Lucilius’ throat. “You are my Eve,” The name felt wrong. The word didn’t fit. “My love.” 

“Why do you call me Eve? I was not with you in the garden.”

“You were. Not as Eve, but as my own flesh.”

“Then where had the true Eve gone? Why don’t you look to the other to fill your gaps?” Hands unclasped the golden circlet at Lucilius throat. The wispy white fabric fell free from his chest.

“Shalem loved mankind, not man. She did not care for me— just for what our union gave her.”

“I do not love you.” Helel’s hands dove low pressing into the warmth between Lucilius’ legs. Lucilius’ brows drew together. “What are you doing?”

“Making us whole again.”

“Why?”

“Because I desire it.”

“I thought you were created perfect? Merging with me would spoil you.”

“You are my other half; in the beginning, we were one. Why shouldn’t it be that way again?” When Helel’s fingers penetrated, Lucilius dug his fingernails into the roots beneath him. “You loved me once. We used to walk together in your dreams.” 

“So that was the real you. Always whispering fantasies into my ear.” Lucilius let his body fall slack beneath the probing touch. Even as Helel drew Lucilius’ knees further apart and lifted the airy skirts from around them, Lucilius did not struggle.

“If you don’t want this, why don’t you fight me?”

“Would you stop if I told you to?”

“I would.” Helel informed him.

“Everything?” Lucilius’ eyes narrowed. “You would cease to hold me here against my will and let me walk free again?”

Helel frowned, but shook the look of uncertainty away. “I cannot. You are a danger to the skies. I have sealed the pair of us within this place.”

A wiry smile twisted Lucilius’ lips. “Then I see no point in the struggle. Take what you will, but afford yourself no satisfaction from my words.”

They joined together, below the waist, Adam entering into Eve. It hurt at first— it should not have hurt— but Helel slowed himself and waited for Lucilius to acclimate. Lucilius did so, as Adam laid kisses upon his body. It was worship, or at least a mockery of the act. Although no words were spared between the two of them during the initial act of intimacy, Lucilius could feel Helel’s plight in his tender movements.

Love me. Cherish me. Adore me.

Selfish, like all the others. A carnivorous beast, a hundred times as vile as the council's pet, lay atop Lucilius now. It feasted on the affections that it had never been spared from the ones it desired them from most. Now it was ravenous, demanding love from any source it could. 

Silver hair fell like waterfalls around him, mingling with the pools of Lucilius’ own far too long locks. Sweat gathered at Helel’s brow as he thrust in and out with his hips. It felt neither good nor bad, it just was— Adam too focused on his own pleasure to notice Eve’s neutrality. 

“Does it feel good?” A cruel smile curled onto Lucilius’ lips.

Helel’s arms trembled as he bucked into Lucilius’ warmth, growing visibly drunk on the sensation. “Yes— Creators, yes.”

Lucilius wove his fingers into Helel’s hair, placing a faux tender kiss to his temple before mouthing words to this Adam’s ear. “Is it everything you dreamt it would be?”

“I-it is!”

Was Lucilius the drought that would permanently slake Helel’s thirst, or just another spring that would run dry? Lucilius didn’t know, nor would he give Helel the chance to find out. 

One man’s happiness at the price of another’s. It was a sentiment that echoed throughout all of creation. Lucilius would choose his own and forsake Helel to his emptiness. Let him have this meaningless act to cling to, it mattered not to Lucilius.

“I want to go deeper, let us be one again.”

Lucilius watched him, observing his strained profile. Pants and moans tore from Helel’s throat giving the ambient noise of the afternoon a heated quality. How easy and pointless it would be to snap Helel’s neck. If devouring him hadn’t killed the Speaker, then something as simple-minded as that wouldn’t work either. It would feel good though, better than this.

“Then give me your seed, as you gave the first Eve your seed. See if that binding fills the void within me, as you claim it will.” All at once, Helel stopped and heat filled Eve from the inside. He held his breath, awaiting the finish of Adam’s climax. 

In the end, there was no grand merging of flesh and blood. It was as it had been with all— no, most— others before him. What Helel had sown inside Lucilius was nothing beyond the ordinary. Lucilius did not have the fields to grow it into anything more. Maybe there had been a shred of hope within him that it would make a difference, but Lucilius remained empty and wholly himself.

With an air of finality, Helel ben Sahar sank down on top of Eve, holding him in strong arms. His grip was crushing, as if by some final resort he would smash the two of them together and they would be one. 

“I love you.”

Lucilius remained still, turning over the answers on his tongue. As he suspected, they changed nothing. Many different names for Helel perched at the tip of his tongue, but he said none of them.

“That is not my concern.”

—————————————————————

When Helel fell asleep, Lucilius untangled himself from the true speaker’s arms and rose to find the serpent. Lucilius found him close by, lounging among the leaves of a mustard tree, whispering deceit to the dove and sparrow that nested there. When Lucilius called for him, he came, gliding down from the branches to alight upon his outstretched arm.

“Was Adam not to your taste?”

“Taste? So you were watching.”

“I am always watching you.” Opaque lids slid over its crimson eyes. “You didn’t seem to be enjoying yourself beneath Adam.”

“Was I meant to?”

The serpent laughed. “Maybe not, but you already knew that Adam had no intention of rubbing you out.”

There was something about the teasing that felt frustratingly familiar to Lucilius, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. So, he ignored it. “The door is not a physical thing.”

“No,” the serpent confirmed, “it’s not.”

“I have the key. I ate the fruit and remembered myself, so how do I leave?”

“Then discard the false physical, commit one final sin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no magic jizz lmao, sorry Helel.


	3. Salted wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The people could not dance if they were dead.

“Found you, Cil.”

The soft press of lips against his own reminded Lucilius of who he was.

—————————————————————

What struck next was, again, no memory. Neither was it reality. Water, black like ink, rose up around Lucilius. It filled his mouth as the void once had, but this time, it burned as it slid down his throat. His feet found ground and his heels sank into the mud below as he broke the surface sputtering. 

Lucilius trudged forward through the swirling waters, making for land. Before him stretched a beach made of pitch-colored sand and a shadowed treeline. Dark shapes rose up from the smooth shores, towering over the foliage. His skirts clung heavily to his thighs. As finally his feet touched down on dry land, he looked back to see the red horizon behind him. Smoke rose over the blood-red sea, turning the dark glassy expanse into a frosted mirror. 

“It’s what you wanted, right?” Above Lucilius, lounging atop one of the tall dark structures, Belial was perched. Great black sails extended from his back, drawing an imposing picture. “The seven trumpets blew and the sky erupted in rapturous light. A sight to behold.”

“How did this come to be?” Lucilius questioned him, placing a palm against the dark stone. It was a ruin, a familiar one. Once these pillars had held up the sun. They’d lead to the heavens themselves— or very nearly. The crumbling stone had once belonged to a divine tower.

“Does it matter? It’s the end.”

It does. The details always mattered. The grand finale had a purpose. If Lucilius’ once home was to be put to the torch, then he had to be certain. He continued to study the stonework, searching for an indication of imperfection in the details, and finding none.

A quiet sound of rushing air was the only warning Lucilius received that Belial was behind him. He turned to acknowledge the other.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Belial stared at him as he said the words. Behind him the world smouldered and fires rose up above the distant treeline. “The sun swallows the old world.”

Lucilius narrowed his eyes. “Do not try to deceive me.”

“That’s my Cil, never content with anything but the real deal. Still, it’s the best I can do for you right now. I couldn’t imagine a more fitting location for us to spend an eternity.” Before Lucilius, Belial strode to the water's edge. For the first time, as Lucilius stared at his dark silhouette against the vivid red sky, he saw the weight that rested there. Belial looked unremarkable against the expansive horizon. “I’ve been looking for you all this time.”

Lucilius knew that to be the truth. “What of the Speaker?”

“He bound you in a place that I can’t reach.” 

“Here?”

Belial nodded and then frowned and shook his head. He returned to Lucilius’ side. “Yes and no. We’re still in the space between dimensions, but one where soul can be separated from the body. The Speaker holds your vessel captive, but he has no power here. So long as you stay he can’t touch you, but neither can you leave. If you do, he will assail you again.”

“Do you intend to try and hold me down as well?” Lucilius met Belial with a cold stare.

“Really?” Slipping his hands into the pockets of his pants, Belial kicked aside a stray rock. “You know me, I like a little give and take. I don’t mind having that kinda power over someone, but you’re so much better without your wings clipped. This place is just a… reprieve. Although, if you’d like to hold me down for a bit, I won’t complain.” 

Belial’s tongue flicked out of his mouth and wetted his lips. The dots began to connect. Lucilius took hold of Belial’s jaw and tilted his chin up so that the primal beast was forced to meet his eye. “Are you the one from my memories, or something else?”

An impetuous smile spread across Belial’s face, “I’m the real Belial—”

“Are you the serpent from the garden?”

“You’re going to have to clarify a little. I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“Do not play coy with me. You know of the visions that have plagued me since my birth. Feigning ignorance only confirms your guilt.” Duplicit words, forked tongue. They were the same, weren’t they? Maybe— maybe not. Who was the original? Who was the copy?

The primal beast’s expression didn’t flicker, but Lucilius could feel the change happening within him during the pregnant pause. “I don’t know.” A huge sigh escaped Belial. His shoulders sagged, and his expression relaxed. “I don’t have any visions like you do. If I’m just another piece of your uncaring god’s puzzle, I’m unaware of it. But it doesn’t really matter to me. The truth wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Wouldn’t it?” Carefully, Lucilius studied his reaction. There was no indication of a lie, but even if there had been, would he have known?

“Nope.”

“How can you be so content to live in ignorance when others tighten the noose? Doesn’t it bother you that your actions could be scripted— that you could hang from a puppeteer’s threads?”

“So long as it’s you doing the deed, I’m happy to be hung.”

“Willful ignorance.” Lucilius spat.

“Is it willful ignorance if I’m edging death knowing what sort of climax awaits me?”

In that moment, Lucilius wanted to feel resentment towards the wretched creature he’d created— that, maybe, he had not created. This beast that, beneath all the layers of deceit, exemplified the blind loyalty to a creator that Lucilius so detested. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to tie the rope around Belial’s neck and let him suffocate under the weight of his devotion. What held Lucilius back?

With an irritated flick of his wrist, he let go of Belial, defeated, and dropped down to sit in the sand. “You’re no prisoner of this realm. Why are you here?”

“You know why.” Belial settled beside him.

An intelligent beast reduced to a mindless addict. Lucilius scoffed. He was a glass of poison that Belial would chase with antidote just to get the flavor on his tongue. Love, the name of his downfall. Belial had announced it in passing over a tedious experiment, as if the words came easy and meant nothing. He’d spoken it aloud before Beelzebub, the spare, and the Singularity, as if it were an indisputable truth. The beast had proclaimed it alone to Lucilius as he pressed him down into the sheets and fucked him with the slow, tender roll of his hips. No Astral before Lucilius had ever allowed Belial to do as much. In that, Lucilius afforded himself a small amount of smugness. But even that felt hollow to him.

Lucilius was no stranger to the idea; he was not the cold and callous researcher others accused him of being. He had known love, once, and with it, the deepest of despairs. Love was the reason Lucilius was on this godforsaken beach. He buried his face in one hand and shifted the weight of his arms onto his knees. “You’re such a headache.”

“That I am,” beside him, like a loyal dog, Belial flopped back into the sand, “but I’m yours to the end.”

A scowl overcame Lucilius’ face and he pushed himself up over Belial so that he peered down at him. Even as Lucilius made to straddle him, as he had countless other nights, Belial did not budge. He never did. Instead the cocky expression melted into something softer; a look that did not belong on Belial’s face.

“Cil?”

“Put your hands on me.” Lucilius demanded.

Belial blinked stupidly back at him as if, somehow, he’d lost the ability to see an innuendo in everything. Then a toothy grin stretched across his face. “Here? Goodness, bareback on the beach? I wouldn’t have pegged you for the type.”

“This realm is yours. Do something about the sand.”

“Of course, just don’t peek while I work my magic.” Belial’s wide palm reached out and fitted itself over his eyes, blocking out the view. By the time Belial’s touch pulled away from him, the sand had been replaced with soft black sheets and a mattress. They’d moved up the beach into a dark wood gazebo that overlooked the still waters of the shore. Whatever sand that might have clung to them had vanished and in its place, a vial of oil rested in the palm of Belial’s hand.

Lucilius ignored it. Instead he pushed himself forward, pressing his lips against Belial’s mouth. Belial moaned beneath him, lifting up his hips to meet Lucilius, grinding the large outline of Belial’s cock against his. A grunt escaped Lucilius’ mouth, but Belial devoured it along with the kiss. 

“You’re receiving.” Lucilius informed Belial before he bit his lip, drawing blood. 

“This is a first.” A look of genuine shock greeted Lucilius. “What’s come over you? Tired of laying back and taking it?”

“On with it.” Lucilius scowled and took the vial away from Belial before pouring an adequate amount of the liquid out into Belial’s palm. “Prepare yourself.”

“Yes sir.” Belial saluted mockingly. He unbuckled his belts and shucked off his pants and wraps with his clean hand. Lucilius sat back on his heels, watching Belial intently as he bent his knees and spread his legs. Always, there was a prelude with Belial. It wasn’t the first time Lucilius had seen this display, but it was the first time the act had been for him. Belial circled himself, rubbing oil into his skin. Always teasing. Always drawing the time out until, suddenly, he wasn’t. Two fingers dove in, stretching Belial out for Lucilius’ viewing pleasure. The slick sound of oil squelching around Belial’s touch met Lucilius’ ears. 

It turned his stomach. 

Something like bile had been rising in the back of Lucilius’ throat since their exchange on the beach. Watching Belial put on the same act he’d seen countless times for others soured his tongue. Better to label it stomach acid, for the truth was far less desirable to voice. 

“Enough theatrics.” Lucilius demanded.

“You’re really rushing me. Can’t wait to stick it in?” Belial smiled, teasing a third finger around the rim. “How about you show me what I’m working with so I have a good idea of how much I need to prep?” 

An irritated grunt left Lucilius as he reached down to fight with the belts and wraps that adorned his own hips. It was a struggle ridding himself of them. During the core implant, void matter and armor had fused to his skin. The gauntlets he wore could no longer be removed for more dexterous tasks. Still, Lucilius managed to uncover the closure of his pants.

Belial whistled as he withdrew himself. “Damn, you really made Lucif—“

Lucilius cut Belial off with a dominating kiss, not wanting to hear the rest of what Belial had to say. It was always the same, pointing out what should have gone unsaid. Lucilius didn’t care for the banter. Thankfully, Belial, when offered physical contact in exchange, was quick to move on from the train of thought. He swallowed Lucilius’ tongue like a starving man. 

Forgoing dexterity entirely, Lucilius took hold of the singular button of Belial’s suit jacket and pried the edge up. With the sharpened edge of his gauntleted finger, he cut the threads that held the straining brass closure in place. It popped off with little to no convincing. The jacket fell free from Belial’s torso revealing the full expanse of his chest. Lucilius’ palm found itself buried in the soft flesh of Belial’s right pectoral. 

A breathy moan was expelled from Belial’s mouth and Lucilius devoured it, giving Belial no room to breath. He rocked himself against the back of Belial’s hand, pushing Belial’s fingers deeper into him as he added a third. More noises. More sounds. Something about them frustrated Lucilius. If he had a gag right now, he might have been tempted to use it— and make himself just like the council. No, he would deal with this.

When Belial had finished opening himself up, Lucilius used the leverage he had to push him down on his back. “It’s all about domination with you Astrals, isn’t it?” Belial quipped back.

Lucilius narrowed his eyes. “I’ve done nothing but receive for you. Hold your tongue.”

“And why is that? You don’t really seem like the receiving type.” The prodding came as Belial palmed Lucilius’ hardness, coating his length in oil. “It took me a long time to figure it out. Everything you do, you do for a purpose. Sex is no exception.”

“What are you saying?” 

“That, at the heart of it all, you’re just like me.”

“I am not like you.”

Belial ignored him. “It must be frustrating always being under those who perceive themself your better. Being born with a weak body in a society that values strength. It was inevitable that if you stuck your neck out too far, you’d get bent over a few times. You hated that didn’t you? Wouldn’t have made a stallion like Lucifer if you didn’t.”

There they were, more thoughts Lucilius had never had the desire to voice. He stiffened. “It was inevitable, there’s no point in discussing it at length.”

So, of course, Belial pushed to discuss it further. “It would have been so easy for you to order me to spread my legs for you— hell, I was ready to offer myself up— but you never did. Now why is that?” The smile had begun to fade off of Belial’s face. He looked up at Lucilius and his brows pinched together. 

“Why?” Lucilius felt his jaw lock up even as he asked. It was an answer he didn’t want, yet he had asked.

“It’s because you wanted it to mean something to me.”

Lucilius was unable to meet his eye. 

“It did, you know, because I knew what it meant to you. Top or bottom, it doesn’t really make a difference— I’ve had plenty of years on my own to even the score. But it makes a difference to you, doesn’t it? This means something.”

“Do you always intend to ruin my good mood with your empty banter?”

“It bothers you that I willingly submitted to others.” Belial was pushing forward, taking a sledgehammer to carefully constructed boundaries that he had no right to demolish. It would ruin everything.

“That’s ridiculous.” Lucilius scoffed. “I ordered you to, at times.”

“And still, irrationally so, it bothers you. I’ll tell you why. It’s because you risked so much showing your vulnerability to me; showing that you—”

“On your hands and knees. Now, beast.” Lucilius demanded, cutting him off. That was enough— that was more than enough. Lucilius didn’t give Belial the chance to comply. His hands were on Belial’s hips and he was rolling the stockier man over onto his stomach. Even now, Lucilius was not here, in the moment. 

When Belial scrambled to his knees, Lucilius wasted no time in gingerly taking his cock up in his palm and pressing his head to Belial’s slicked hole. He slid in easily, mimicking the way that others had penetrated him with a fluid thrust of his hips. Heat swallowed his length and clenched down around him. Lucilius couldn’t hold back the gasp that tore from his lungs.

“It feels good, doesn’t it,” Belial didn’t look back, “Having power over another like this? Is it your first time giving?”

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” Lucilius replied ambiguously as he began to thrust. He had no desire to feed into whatever twisted fantasy that the primal beast had spun in his mind. Right— Lucilius supposed that his own was being fed instead. He was the same. He was the same.

“O-oh, you feel good. You’re so thick.” Belial’s words tumbled out easily. His hands fisted into the sheets and his shoulders tensed. “Gods Cil— fuck!”

Things were different now. There was no going back. Lucilius could feel Belial spasm around him, struggling to adjust to the, admittedly, rough treatment. Belial could take it; he’d taken far worse from others. There was no need for sentimentality. 

“Keep going.” Belial panted out, even as Lucilius dragged a cold metal finger along the prominent ridges of his spine. The primal’s muscles strained and glistened with sweat, reflecting back the red light of a dying sun. Not his sun. “Harder Cil, please. Harder.” The plight was relentless despite how his limbs were actively buckling. It was making leverage more difficult.

With a particularly brutal thrust, Lucilius increased his pace. The mattress springs groaned under their combined weight. Beneath him, Belial’s arms and legs trembled, rocking from the force of Lucilius’ hips. 

In a fit of irritation, Lucilius withdrew himself entirely and forced Belial to roll over. There was a look of genuine surprise on Belial’s face as his back hit the bed. Lucilius’ hands were on his thighs, spreading them open so that he could fit himself between them. He didn’t speak as he positioned the head of his cock against Belial’s entrance and thrust in with a powerful snap of his hips.

A performative moan soared free from Belial, piercing the ambient atmosphere of the beach. Lucilius’ brows drew together and displeasure, like ice, flowed through his veins. Roughly, he snatched up Belial’s chin, digging metal talons into fragile flesh. “Do not do that.” He hissed through his teeth.

“Am I ruining the mood?” Belial joked, wincing as the claws bit deeper into his skin. 

“No.” 

A presumptive hand touched lightly against Lucilius’ knee. “Then you’re on a power trip? Would you prefer me pretend to feign disinterest so you can use me like a doll? I’ll take whatever it is you give me.” A cocky smile pulled at the corner of Belial’s mouth, catching Lucilius off guard. 

Anger sparked; Lucilius’ vision went red. The next thing he knew the smirk had left Belial’s face. Crimson blood blossomed from vicious gashes on Belial’s cheek, gathering in little rivers that dripped down his neck. A snarl formed in Lucilius’ throat and he bared his teeth. Already his hips had resumed their cruel pace, slamming into the back of Belial’s thighs as he bottomed out over and over again. The treatment was too rough, it almost didn’t feel good, just raw. A groan, genuine this time, betraying both pain and arousal was pulled from Belial. It did nothing to staunch the fury that bled outward from Lucilius. 

Anger. What place did it have here? All Lucilius could conceptualize was resentment.

“Ha— don’t like it when your buttons get pushed? T-that’s fine, fill me with e-everything you’re feeling— ah…! I’ll t-take...”

Stop— he needed Belial to stop speaking. A hand closed around Belial’s throat, grip tightening. Crushing. The airway gave beneath his grasp. Wait, was that right? Was this what Lucilius wanted?

“C-Cil…” The words struggled to escape Belial; the corners of his eyes were watering, but the smile returned. “L-let me fill… the holes in… y-your hate.” His fingers brushed against Lucilius’ wrist, stroking it fondly. Lucilius watched, unmoved, as the wounds on Belial’s cheek healed over. Harder, Belial mouthed; so Lucilius squeezed harder. Harder. Lucilius fucked into him, rocking the mattress with the power behind his thrusts. Harder. A hand wrapped around Belial’s wrist, pinning the limb down beside his head. Bones crunched between Lucilius’ fingers. Harder—

Why— why was he doing this? His vision blurred as he robbed the air— that he had placed— from Belial’s lungs. Blue tinged the beast’s lips. Eyes strained and teeth ground. Heat gathered, draining out of Lucilius’ core to pool in the pit of his abdomen. He resented himself for it, but it was red on red; impossible to differentiate from the rest of the hatred boiling in him.

Hate. Hate.

Lucilius hated God. He hated the Speaker. Hated the sky and its residents, the stars and its people, and the earth and its legions. He hated himself and he hated Belial—no.

No.

That wasn’t right— By the time the realization struck him, the heat had peaked within him and burst forth, gushing out in the form of a climax. Lucilius’ hips stilled as he poured his seed into Belial, filling him with unquenchable flames. His hips shook and his face contorted with the physical manifestation of his emotion. Lucilius squeezed his eyes shut as streams of fire rolled down his cheeks. 

Despair. Not rage... despair.

When the orgasm finished, he released Belial and withdrew; curling back into his far-too-long limbs. It had felt hollow; the climax ruined.

Belial gasped for air, rolling onto his side to sputter like a fish out of water. Lucilius regarded him blankly, taking in the aftermath of his fit with a distant and objective eye. Dark splotches of red burned against the ghostly flesh of Belial’s throat and wrist. Blood gushed from his nose and other hurts scattered across his naked body. Lucilius couldn’t remember inflicting all of them.

“Cil…” With a hoarse voice, Belial called for him. He pushed himself up weakly, crawling in Lucilius’ direction. The urge to flee struck Lucilius as Belial approached. Run. Run. Don’t look back. Lucilius was alone; he’d always been alone. No god, Astral, or Skydweller had ever looked upon him with pity, and he had never wanted such a condescending notion from those who were unable to understand. 

“Cil,” Belial repeated, stronger this time, through a vicious cough. As he reached out, Lucilius recoiled from his fingertips. 

“Don’t.” The half-hearted warning came.

Withdrawing his hand, Belial staggered into an upright sitting position, panting from the exertion. “Please, let me.”

Lucilius turned his head away in neither an expression of permission nor denial. Belial, never one to cease, repeated the motion, halting movement just short of contact. His fingertips hovered, but still, Lucilius offered no response, so Belial pushed forward, cupping his cheeks with a gentle palm. At the contact, Lucilius stiffened, and a deep scowl carved its way into his face.

“You’ve never cried in front of me before.” A thumb brushed against him, gathering the moisture that had leaked from his eyes. Lucilius’ eyes flicked at the words, but, when he caught sight of Belial’s expression, he regretted looking. It was like the first night they’d spent together. Belial’s gaze was tender and his brows pinched together in concern. This wasn’t Belial— it couldn’t be.

“Neither have you.” Lucilius didn’t acknowledge his own tears, choosing instead to let them dry unattended. Belial took it upon himself to wipe them away. 

“I don’t think I can anymore; spent them all.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“I don’t need you to understand.”

“Why are you still here?” 

For six days they marched around impenetrable walls. 

“You know why.”

“I don’t.”

Now, on the morning of the seventh, they retraced the path seven times, raising horns to their lips, filling their lungs with air.

“It’s for the same reason that you still allow me to stay by your side.” Belial’s mouth was on his again, not waiting for Lucilius to pull apart the meaning behind his words. The answer became tangible between them; gaining a life of its own as Belial’s lips pressed the shape of it into Lucilius. For a moment, Lucilius paused, holding the key in his grasp, unable to fit it into the lock. But eventually, it made purchase, and the key turned. A small noise of amused disbelief left Lucilius. It was that simple.

I love you. Not for the first time, or for the last, Belial spoke the words, silent as a prayer against Lucilius lips. And this time, Lucilius could speak them back. The vowels felt unnatural and the consonants caught, but they were right.

The words were right.

“I love you.” A question first, then a statement of irrevocable truth. Lucilius pushed back into Belial.

“Again,” Belial requested, pulling Lucilius’ hand to rest at the bruises on his hips. “Let me feel you in me again. I want you to fill me with everything.”

Emotion expressed through physicality. Instead of Lucilius demanding it from him, Belial was offering himself. “Accept all of me, then. Look away from nothing.”

“I never would. Every part of you is dear to me.” And so, Belial stroked him back to hardness with an oil and blood slicked hand. He straddled Lucilius, stealing kisses from him wherever he would permit. A long, low moan left Belial’s lips as he sank down into Lucilius’ lap, settling around Lucilius’ length. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Lucilius’ shoulder. “Come heaven or hell, I’m with you.” The proclamation came against his neck. 

Lucilius placed a hand to the back of Belial’s head, anchoring the primal against him. Lucilius loved Belial. It was an earth shattering revelation; nothing like the smooth and easy conviction that Belial voiced. Regardless of who Belial was, man or beast, he, when no other would, had chosen to be here, in this wall-less prison— with Lucilius. It was a fact that defied logic, but Lucilius could depend on it. “I forbid you from leaving my side.”

“Then I never will.” Belial replied with a laugh, his arms wrapped around to embrace Lucilius. “Make and unmake me. Let’s see the world burn together then, shall we?” Lucilius offered no response, but he felt the weight in his chest lighten considerably.

With Lucilius’ cock inside him, Belial began to move; rocking his hips back and forth in slow and steady circles. Another kiss was stolen from Lucilius’ lips, another demand from his lungs. “Don’t leave me.” Desperate. Lonely. Pathetic. The words were a knife in his side. Love was a weakness. One that he had more than enough of.

“Never.” Belial promised as he rode him with reckless abandon. The sounds and smells of sex filled the air. Soft pants washed over Lucilius’ shoulder and ghosted against his bare back where hands clutched him tightly. Lucilius thrusted back into the tight heat, letting it consume him. 

Don’t let go.

Neither silent nor spoken aloud, the sentiment was passed along through the palms of Lucilius’ hands and the press of thighs against thighs. I am with you. I am with you. Words formed on lips. Dragging against Lucilius’ neck. Tightening around him. Driving him to the edge, and then over it. 

Blinding white heat burst from him, spilling out into Belial. It was everything and more. Lucilius’ rage, his hate, his love, his heartache, his despair— all of it he poured into Belial with a strained cry. Anyone would have burst, but not Belial. The primal beast drew his brows together and bit his lip, reveling in the sensation of the burning. His own orgasm was passing over him, wetting their fronts as he spilt himself untouched between them.

“Cil…” He moaned, falling slack beneath Lucilius’ touch. “Cil.” Then Belial was tumbling back, pulling Lucilius with him. He settled on top of Belial, making to withdraw himself from between Belial’s legs as he settled. “Wait— not yet. Stay in me a little longer.”

Lucilius’ lips formed into a hard line, but he stayed put, anchored in place by the powerful thighs that wrapped around his waist. “You’re pushing it.”

An easy smile answered Lucilius. “That’s what I do. So what’s the plan now, darling?”

“Call me that again and I will leave you here.” He promised.

“And I’ll follow after you. To the very ends of the sky, beyond the stars, through the pits of the earth— it doesn’t matter. I’ll be by your side.” Lucilius turned aside, but Belial’s hand was on his chin, pulling him back. “Always.”

Very well. “Always.”

The plan was simple. Smash the window. Topple the walls. Rain hell down from above.

—————————————————————

“Y-you?” The Speaker’s startled voice was the first thing that greeted him again in unreality. “You returned?”

Lucilius was ready for him. He didn’t respond, instead turning his thoughts inward, focusing on the fading sensation of Belial’s mouth upon his. The serpent, the apples. He remembered how they had felt sliding down his throat. 

They were life. Life was energy. Energy was heat. Heat could burn. 

The feeling multiplied as it reached his chest. Something like fire began to gather in his core. The ice about him began to melt away as his skin gathered heat. 

Hotter. Hotter. It needed to be hotter. Lucilius drove his core further, pushing the reactor to turn faster and faster. This primal body was just short of immortal, it was still a gamble, but this vessel should be able to withstand the reaction.

“Stop!” The Speaker cried out. A hand grasped his arm for a moment, then pulled back abruptly. A cry of pain followed.

Lucilius didn’t care. He could feel the moment when his flesh began to melt away, revealing the blue flames that had been birthed within. If flesh was his prison, he would throw it away. Suddenly, the fire exploded in him, clawing at the confines of his skin.

With the flames, blue light bathed the space around Lucilius, illuminating the cowering form of The Speaker and the exit. Movement had returned to his limbs and his wings fanned out, propelling him towards the split in space. With a clawed fist he stretched out his hand and slashed through the abnormality, tearing wide the blackness. 

—————————————————————

When Lucilius emerged from the rip in space, it deposited him upon a mountain top before closing up behind him. Above him, he saw a blue sky and a large shape. Islands, he realized. He was... in the crimson horizon? No, the islands were still too close, he must have been on one of the peaks that rested beneath the sky.

Lucilus gazed out upon the ground he stood. The ledge looked out over a settlement. A crowd was gathered beneath him, staring up at him with disbelief. Among their numbers, the girl in blue, the red dragon, the Singularity, and the spare waited for him. And then another a familiar face. 

The Speaker, masquerading in the form that resembled Lucifer. 

“Belial.” Lucilus called out, voice distorted from the flickering flames that devoured him.

“I’m here.” 

Gleaming white teeth replied before the rest of their owner took shape. Out of the darkness, beside Lucilius, the serpent manifested. It was as if the swirling void itself was given form; the shadows twisting, weaving themselves into the shape of a man. Like unsightly petals, dark wings blossomed from his back, spreading out to greet the distant sun. 

“No!” The girl in blue cried out, trembling at the sight of them both. “Belial, you’re better than this!”

“I am?” Belial barked out a laugh.

“You lied.” The Singularity spoke, genuine, naive hurt dripping from the words. In his hands, a weapon, fashioned from the power of the seraphs, gleamed dangerously in the harsh light. Eyes dyed red, hair blanched white. An unstable vessel, fit to burst at any moment. At least Belial hadn’t been doing nothing.

Another chuckle. “Isn’t that what liars do? Well, you had fun playing with me, didn’t you? I popped your little cherry and filled you to the brim— what a show you put on, stripping down to the skin for me. I’ll miss all those long hot nights we spent together—”

“Enough!” The spare hissed, stepping in front of the Singularity as a furious blush spread across both their cheeks. “I’ll cut your tongue out.”

“Belial.” Lucilius warned, stepping down the steep slope.

“Yes, yes.” Belial moved aside, letting Lucilius pass him by. “Do your thing, darling.” Lucilius ignored him.

The spare stood firm, now confident in his stolen wings, but the discordance ran through the others. The Singularity adjusted his grip on his sword, pushing the girl in blue behind him. But Lucilius didn’t spare any of them his attention. His gaze remained fixed on the Speaker.

Tear the doors off their hinges. Set the building ablaze. Let God return to the desecrated church and find his forgotten work in ruins. The people could not dance if they were dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wahoooooooo. Finished.


End file.
